To Love Another
by detectivetimehunter
Summary: AU where Sam Winchester and Sherlock Holmes meet in high school and become good friends. When the friendship turns into something more, will they be accepted? Rated M for strong language and homophobia. Please don't read if this upsets you!
1. Chapter 1

**AN: AU in which Sam has an unlikely encounter with a boy in his year at school, Sherlock Holmes. They form a friendship which leads to much more. How will they be accepted?**

**In this fic, Sam and Sherlock are 15 while Dean and John Watson are 17. I know this isn't accurate but I wanted Sam to be 15 and for Dean to be in school. **

**Warning: strong language and homophobia (for the case of the plot)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, TV shows or actors. I make no money from this fic.**

"Class, I'd like you to meet you new classmate, Sam Winchester." Mr Hall introduced Sam to the class.

Sam stood awkwardly at the front of his new class clutching his bag. The classes eyes stared up and him in an intimidating manner. This was the sixth school he had been to in three months and it was starting to irritate him.

He shuffled through the class towards an empty seat next to a tall, lanky boy with brown curly hair and the most amazing eyes Sam had ever seen. The boy was huddled forward in his chair writing notes that looked complicated to Sam.

The boy looked up at him as Sam sat in the chair and smiled shyly holding out his hand.

"The name's Sherlock Holmes." The boy said in a deep voice and smiled when Sam shook his hand firmly.

"Sam Winchester," Sam introduced himself and pulled out his notepad and pencil case.

Sherlock turned back to his work and started rummaging in his bag. Sam frowned and leaned over slightly to see what Sherlock was doing.

Sam's eyebrows rose as he saw Sherlock pull out a small box with a few holes in it. Sherlock caught Sam staring at him and gasped slightly.

"Please don't tell anyone," He whispered to Sam.

"Why would I tell anyone?" Sam asked with a small frown on his face.

Sherlock smiled softly. "You're not like the others, Sam."

Sam blushed and smiled shyly. "So...what's in the box?"

Sherlock slid the lid off the top of the box just enough for Sam to peek through and see a rather fat frog at the bottom surrounded by different plants and a small bowl of water.

"I'm measuring the amount of saliva produced by frogs when they are taken out of their natural habitat." Sherlock whispered with a small smile on his lips.

Sam grinned appreciatively. "That's really cool."

A large hand suddenly swiped the box off the desk letting it fall to the floor and the lid to fall off. Sam and Sherlock both gasped and Sam shot a glare at the boy who was sniggering behind his hand as the frog jumped out and Sherlock scrambled around the floor.

Sam joined Sherlock in an attempt to catch the frog. The class burst out into a fit of laughter causing Mr Hall to look up from his marking.

"What is going on?" He questioned, getting to his feet.

"Sorry sir," Sherlock apologised and looked up. "I – my frog."

"It was me," Sam spoke confidently as he caught the frog in his hands and stood up. "I pushed the box onto the floor and knew Sherlock had the frog in it. I'm sorry."

Sherlock smiled gratefully as Sam passed him the frog.

"I expected better behaviour from the pair of you," Mr Hall snapped. "Sherlock, put the frog back outside and you will both join me here after school for detention."

Sam bit his lip and nodded, aware of the sniggering around him. Sherlock had walked toward the window and leaned out carefully placing the frog on the ledge.

The bell went and everyone packed their stuff away.

"Sam?" Mr Hall asked as everyone filed outside. "Can I speak to you please?"

Sam nodded and stood in front of the desk wringing his hands nervously.

"Look," he sighed. "It wasn't Sherlock's fault. I caused it so you should just give me a detention."  
>"Sam," Mr Hall held a hand up silencing him. "I know that it wasn't either of you but Sherlock has been told not to experiment on animals in school. I'm asking you to join because I think some interaction between you and Sherlock would be a good thing. As I'm aware..." he dropped his voice. "He doesn't have any friends."<p>

Sam swallowed and licked his lips. He said goodbye to his new teacher and headed outside to his next lesson. He was pleasantly surprised to see Sherlock stood waiting for him.

"Thanks for doing that," Sherlock smiled. "You didn't have to."

"Those guys were jerks," Sam shrugged. "I just needed to show them that they can't just walk all over you."

"You don't seem at all freaked out by me." Sherlock stated looking almost confused.

"Why would I?" Sam asked.

"Everyone here thinks I'm a freak." Sherlock looked at the floor; his dark curls falling over his face.

"Hey," Sam grinned putting a hand on Sherlock's shoulder. "I've always been known as a freak but you learn to live with it."

Sherlock nodded, smiling softly. "We better get to class."

Sam and Sherlock were both happy to discover that they had all of their lessons together. Sherlock helped Sam by explaining what they had been doing in each lesson. When lunch came around, they both headed down to the cafeteria and both picked out the same meals; chicken salad, strawberry jelly, an apple and orange juice.

They hadn't been eating long when Sam's older brother, the infamous Dean Winchester, came over to ruffle Sam's hair and eat his jelly.

"Dude, get your own food!" Sam laughed batting Dean's hand away.

"I would," Dean began, "if I didn't have a younger brother who I could steal food from."

"Jerk," Sam grumbled around a mouthful of chicken salad.

"Bitch," Dean chuckled and messed Sam's hair up just to further annoy his kid brother. "So...who's your friend?"

"This is Sherlock," Sam introduced his new friend and brother.

Sherlock smiled as Dean shook his hand.

"Well...it sounds like you've had a good morning." Dean muttered glumly.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked picking up on his brother's tone of voice.

"Just some dick in most of my classes who can't shut his god damn face when I ask him to,"

Sam bit his lip anxiously hoping that Sherlock wasn't going to be frightened of Dean. He could be terrifying when he wanted to.

"Who is it?" Sam asked curiously.

"John freaking Watson," Dean snapped, "World's biggest douche. I swear, if he doesn't lay off, I will beat him within an inch of his life."

Sherlock swallowed nervously hearing John's name. Dean turned to Sherlock.

"Do you know that dick bag?" He asked.

"Yeah," Sherlock choked. "He's my ex-boyfriend."

"Oh," Dean said shocked. "Well…better look next time, hey?"

"Dean," Sam hissed, glaring at his older brother.

"It's okay," Sherlock said quietly. "He never used to be such a jerk."

The boys fell into an awkward silence and Dean soon left.

"I'm sorry about my brother," Sam apologised. "He never knows when to stop talking."

Sherlock laughed softly. "I know the feeling. I have an older brother too."

"Really?" Sam grinned.

"Yeah," Sherlock said. "He's studying at Cambridge in England. He wants to be part of the British Government."

"What do you want to do?" Sam asked in a curious manner.

"I'm not too sure yet," Sherlock answered and slid his plate across the table, "Maybe a scientist or a detective. They seem interesting. What about you?"

"Well, some of my teachers have suggested writing but I have to go into the family business." Sam explained with a slight frown on his face.

"And what's that?" Sherlock asked looking at Sam.

"Err…" Sam bit his lip. "He's a mechanic."

Sherlock nodded slowly knowing that Sam was lying to him. He couldn't think of why that would be. What was so bad about it that Sam wouldn't tell him?

"Okay," He said softly and the pair picked up their plates and trays.

They put them on the side and walked out side by side. Suddenly, Sam walked straight into a boy a few inches taller than himself.

"Sorry," Sam apologised at the boy who was leering down at him.

"Watch where you're going, shithead." The boy snapped.

Sam's eyes widened and he felt Sherlock get a strong grip on his arm in an attempt to pull him away.

"Oh," The boy snarled with a wide grin on his face. "So, you're friends with the freak here. Better be careful of him, kid. He might wanna get in your pants."

"Let's go, Sam." Sherlock whispered in Sam's ear and continued to tug at his arm.

Sam glared at the boy before letting Sherlock lead him away.

"Who was that?" Sam asked.

"John," Sherlock told Sam quietly. "John Watson; my ex."

"You went out with that douchebag?" Sam shouted in shock.

"Sam," Sherlock hissed. "Shut up. It ended the other week. Just leave it, okay?"

Sam nodded and he and Sherlock headed off to their next lesson together in silence.

**Reviews are love! Please take the time to leave a few words.**


	2. Chapter 2

"How was your first day?" Dean asked, throwing a pillow at his brother who was sat cross-legged on his bed in the boy's room in the crappy apartment they were renting doing his homework.

"Fine," Sam snapped, throwing the pillow back at Dean.

"All right," Dean held his hands up. "What's got you panties in a twist?"

"I'm just trying to do my homework!" Sam shouted, breathing heavily.

Dean stared wide-eyed at Sam. He knew that Sam was in a hard part of his life growing up but he didn't think Sam would ever speak to him like that.

"You need to speak to people with more respect." Dean told him. "Dad wouldn't be happy if you spoke to him that way."

"Well, dad isn't here right now, Dean!" Sam shouted, getting louder. "Maybe if he spent more time with us instead of hunting, I might actually be able to spend at least a year at a school and I wouldn't have to spend my time copying Sherlock's notes!"

"Oh, yeah," Dean laughed sarcastically. "What's with that? You trying to get a little man love here? Who knows, maybe you could have a long distance relationship when we leave."

Sam slammed his book down in a fit of rage and stormed off into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He sank to the floor behind the door as tears started rolling down his cheeks and his throat constricted making him choke.

In the distance, Sam could hear Dean banging on the door in an attempt to gain entry. Dean yelled for him to come out and soon gave up shouting to speak calmly through the door.

"Sammy," He spoke gently. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean the things I said."

Slowly and carefully, Sam's fingers opened the door and he peeked around it to see the older brother kneeling by the door and looking at him with sorrow filled eyes.

Dean stood and pushed the door open wider to envelope his kid brother in his arms. Sam's fingers curled tightly into Dean's shirt as he sobbed into his chest.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Sam repeated like a mantra.

"Shush," Dean soothed. "Let's get you to bed before dad gets home and finds you in this state. You know he won't be happy."

Sam nodded and tried to slow his breathing. Dean lightly tugged Sam's shirt over his head and pulled his pants off so he was just stood shivering in his boxers. If Dean really took the time to look at his little brother, he could see how broken the kid really was. His skin was mottled with scars, both new and old, that he had picked up over the years. Most of them were from hunts, but some were from their father.

Their dad didn't often beat them, but when he did, Sam was always the main target for his anger. Dean had tried to stop his father in the past but that would just end up getting him angrier and hurting Sam even more.

Dean took a set of clean pyjamas out of Sam's duffle bag and helped the kid step into his pants. He then carefully helped him into his top and buttoned it down.

"Thank you," Sam said in almost a whisper.

"Don't mention it, squirt." Dean smiled and led his brother back over to his bed and settled him between the covers.

Dean lightly brushed Sam's hair off his forehead and placed a small kiss on his temple. Sam closed his eyes and settled into his pillow enjoying the comforting touch of his brother.

"Get some sleep, okay?" Dean said and went off to the bathroom to get himself ready for bed.

John came in sometime later looking exhausted. Dean woke hearing the door open and peered through the darkness at his father. The stench of alcohol wafted around the room and tickled the teenager's nose.

"Dad," He croaked tiredly. "Have you been drinking?"

"Was it to you?" John slurred and stumbled towards Sam's bed.

"Dad," Dean whispered fearfully. "Leave him alone. He's sleeping."

"And I need my sleep," John barked and grab Sam's arm, startling him awake.

"You've got your own room!" Dean argued but was ignored.

John's other hand moved to Sam's hair and gripped it tightly. He pulled Sam out of the bed and threw him at Dean's. Sam grunted as he collided with the bedside table and the bed. John immediately collapsed onto the recently vacated bed and fell asleep.

"Sammy," Dean lifted his brother onto his bed and rocked him side to side.

"Why does dad hate me?" Sam croaked and looked at Dean with damp eyes.

Dean didn't answer and pulled the duvet over himself and his little brother. They soon fell asleep; Sam in Dean's arms.

Sherlock walked into his house after school and was greeted by the scent of fresh cookies. He smiled and inhaled the familiar scent of home before stepping inside and closing the door quietly behind him.

"Sherlock, honey," He heard his mother call him from the kitchen. "Is that you?"

Sherlock hurried into the kitchen and embraced his mother. He had recently gone through a teenage growth spurt and was almost a half foot taller than his mother.

"Did you have a good day?" His mother asked.

"I did, mum." Sherlock beamed. "I met someone."

His mother practically squealed in delight and squeezed him tightly. Ever since John Watson had broken up with him, his mother had gone out of her way to make everything perfect for her son. She baked him cookies every day, asked him about school and even took him out to buy new chemistry equipment.

Sherlock was startled at first by this recent development but appreciated everything his mother was doing for him. He gradually became used to it.

"Who is it?" His mother asked.

"His name is Sam Winchester," Sherlock informed. "He just moved here and has been very kind to me."

Sherlock left out the bit about Sam lying to him as his mother would no doubt want them as far from each other as possible.

"You should bring him around for dinner tomorrow," His mother said and handed him a cookie. "It's good to see that you're finally happy again."

Sherlock smiled shyly and nibbled the cookie. "I'll be upstairs if you need me."

With that, he dashed upstairs to his room and started his homework; not forgetting about the tall boy with the shaggy hair and a dimpled smile.

**Remember to leave a few words, sweethearts. It means a lot!**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: I apologise for the late update. Writer's block is a bitch. But anyway, here is chapter 3 for all you patient readers :)**

**Warning: strong language, homophobia, child abuse (don't like, don't read)**

**Disclaimer: I only own the plot and nothing else. If I owned everything else, I would be amazingly rich and super happy :D**

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><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

"So Sam, do you want to come over to my house for dinner tonight?"

Sherlock and Sam were sat in their form room alone. They were the first people in and took this as an opportunity to chat with each other.

Sam grinned when Sherlock suggested that. He would much rather spend the evening with him than go back to his house and face his hung-over, and frankly pissed off father.

"Sure," Sam answered. "I'll let Dean know later."

The bell suddenly rang and the class filed inside and sat at their desks. Sherlock noticed Sam gingerly reaching into his bag for his books and watched as a small grimace of pain crossed his face. Sherlock bit his lip and made a promise to himself that he would speak to Sam about it later as the lesson began.

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><p>"So...did you get into a fight or something?" Sherlock asked Sam over lunch.<p>

Sam looked up at him like a deer caught in the headlights. "Pardon?"

"The way you moving show to me that you are in immense pain," Sherlock spoke. "I also observed the facial expressions you pull when you bend to get something or when someone bumps into you. In conclusion, I think that your ribs are either bruised or broken. Which again leads me to my previous question; did you get into a fight?"

Sam stared at Sherlock in awe and wonder. He had never seen anything as incredible as that or met anyone who was that observant.

"No," Sam answered and bit his lip nervously.

"Don't lie to me this time." Sherlock snapped.

"I've never lied to you, Sherlock." Sam said sadly.

"I know you have," Sherlock told him. "You lied about your dad's job."

Sam swallowed and nibbled his nails. "I didn't."

Sherlock huffed and got to his feet. "I was wrong about you, Sam. You're just like everybody else."

With that, Sherlock stalked out of the cafeteria leaving Sam alone.

"Where's your boyfriend?" Dean grinned mischievously and sat next to Sam.

Sam sighed and, ignoring his brother, got to his feet and hurried away.

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><p>As Sam walked down the corridor, he could hear muffled shouting coming from the boy's toilets. He approached them and carefully pushed to door open to see a load of boys, Dean's age, crowded around a stall.<p>

Sam pushed his way through to get to the cause of the crowd and the shouting to find John Watson and another boy, Mike Stamford, holding Sherlock's head in the toilet.

"Get off him!" Sam yelled running forward to try and pull Sherlock away from them.

"Who's this clown?" Mike asked laughing.

"Sherly's new boyfriend," John sneered and continued to stick Sherlock's head under the water.

Sam punched John hard causing him to lose his grip on Sherlock and for his nose to start bleeding. Sherlock came up from beneath the water gasping and spluttering. Sam crouched next to his friend and gripped his hand tightly.

"I won't ask again," Sam snarled. "Leave him alone."

John and his friends hurried out of the bathroom leaving Sam and Sherlock huddled at the bottom of the stall.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked once Sherlock had calmed down.

"I'm – I'm fine." Sherlock stuttered. "Thank you."

"Don't worry about it," Sam helped Sherlock to his feet.

"No, I mean it," Sherlock said gripping Sam's arm. "Thank you."

"I was only doing what any decent person would have done," Sam shrugged and went to walk away when Sherlock pulled him back.

"I'm really sorry about before, Sam." He told him. "You aren't like anyone else. You are my friend and I don't think I've ever really had any friends."

Sam blushed slightly and smiled. "So…we still on for dinner tonight?"

"Definitely," Sherlock grinned and they both walked together to their next lesson.

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><p>"So Sam," Sherlock's mother spoke over dinner. "Where did you move from?"<p>

"Kansas mainly," Sam answered. "But my father moves around a lot for work so we've never really settled down anywhere."

"Well, it seems Sherlock has taken a liking to you." Sherlock's mother beamed as Sherlock blushed and hid behind his curls.

"This is beautiful food Mrs Holmes." Sam spoke and took a bite from his chicken casserole.

"Thank you, Sam." Sherlock's mum grinned widely.

The rest of the meal was eaten in companionable silence. Mrs Holmes cleared the plates away when they were finished while Sherlock and Sam headed upstairs to work on a Geography project together.

"Your mum's nice," Sam spoke as he copied and pasted some information on the laptop for the project.

Sherlock blushed and smiled shyly. "She is. I'm lucky to have her. She could have kicked me out for coming out gay but she said I was brave."

"What did you ever see in John?" Sam asked curiously. Sherlock swallowed.

"He never used to be like that." Sherlock spoke quietly. "It was only when his dad found out about us and flipped. I think his dad gave him a lesson on the evils of homosexuality and John's friends have always been bullies."

"Is that why you broke up; because of his dad?"

Sherlock nodded looking at his hands.

"I'm sorry," Sam said softly.

"Why are you sorry?" Sherlock asked confused. "You're the kindest person I've ever met."

Sam blushed brightly and ducked his head.

"So, I've told you about John and me," Sherlock said and put a hand on top of Sam's. "Will you tell me why you're hurt?"

Sam's eyes flooded with tears that rolled slowly and steadily down his cheeks. "My dad,"

Sam spoke so softly that Sherlock almost didn't hear it.

"Your dad did this to you?" Sherlock gasped. "Sam, I'm so sorry. I didn't realise."

Sherlock wrapped his arms loosely around his friend so as not to hurt him more. Sam shook in his arms and sobbed into Sherlock's shirt. Sherlock cupped Sam's cheek in his hand and wiped the tears away with his thumb. Slowly, Sherlock leaned towards Sam and pressed their lips gently together. Sam gripped Sherlock's wrist and practically froze as Sherlock help to guide him. Sam closed his eyes and tasted the peach lip balm that Sherlock was wearing on his lips. Sherlock pulled his lips away and rested their foreheads together.

"You are perfect, Sam." Sherlock spoke gently.

Sam pulled away and scrambled to his feet.

"I can't," Sam rasped. "That's not me and I'm not good for people. I'm sorry."

Sam hurried down the stairs, thanked Mrs Holmes and hurried out of the house without a backward glance.

It took Sam over half an hour to walk back home and it was ten minutes past his curfew. Mrs Holmes was meant to have given Sam a lift back home but Sam had left before she could say anything.

He stepped into the dark, quiet house and shut the door almost silently. As he walked towards the kitchen, he knew what was coming before it had even happened.

He stole a glance into the living room and saw his dad sitting there watching the door with his arms folded. Dean was crouched next to him with tear stained cheeks.

"Where were you?" John snarled still staring at his youngest son.

"I – I was at Sherlock's." Sam stuttered. "We overdid our homework. I – I didn't realise what time it was."

"Don't lie to me boy!" John roared and got to his feet.

Sam backed up against the wall. "I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again."

"You will be," John growled and gripped Sam's arm in a vice-like grip.

"Dad, stop it!" Dean shouted and tugged at his father's shoulder.

John swung around and hit Dean in the face causing him to fall to the floor.

"I will deal with your brother as I see fit," John glared at his oldest son before turning back to Sam. "You need to learn your place in this household and stop being a disobedient little shit."

Sam swallowed and bit his lip trying to hold back tears. "I'm sorry."

John shook his head and pulled Sam's shirt over his head.

"Dad, he said he was sorry!" Dean shouted knowing what was coming.

John then pulled Sam towards the radiator and secured him with a set of handcuffs. He then pulled his belt from the loops of his jeans and wound the end around his hand. Sam took a breath and braced himself for the lash of the buckle on his back. His teeth bit into his lip as he tried not to cry out. John continued to hit his son as silent tears rolled down both Sam's and Dean's faces. John then kicked Sam in the stomach before leaving to go to his own room.

Sam's body wracked with sobs as tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Sammy?" Dean crouched next to his brother, his hand hovering inches from his back as if Sam would break if he touched him.

Dean un-cuffed his kid brother from the radiator and grabbed the first aid kit from the kitchen.

"This is gonna hurt," Dean warned and gave Sam a chance to brace himself before he poured antiseptic over the welts on his back.

Sam whimpered and Dean's heart broke for the kid. He gently rubbed cream over Sam's back and dressed it.

"There we go kiddo." Dean soothed and held Sam in his arms.

Sam clutched Dean tightly and sobbed into his neck.

"It's okay, it's okay," Dean told Sam over and over running his hand through his hair.

They stayed like that until Sam had fallen asleep in Dean's arms. Dean lifted his younger brother and carried him to their room. He dressed Sam in some pyjama pants and left his top off. Dean then stayed awake with Sam until his eyes could stay open no longer.

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><p><strong>Please take a few moments to leave a short review. You can have a cookie :)<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Chapter 4 is up and ready. I'm sorry that this story is slow going but I promise, it will get better and I will try to update more frequently. Thanks for all your lovely reviews and for sticking with me. I should mention that lookaliveerin has been a great help by giving me the plot bunny and nagging me in school to continue writing it so this is dedicated to her :)**

**I had a lot of trouble writing this chapter because I am very pro-gay and hate using homophobic language for the sake of the plot. Sorry if this offends anyone but you have been warned!**

**Warning: bad language, homophobia, child abuse (don't like, don't read)**

**Disclaimer: I wish I owned all this but only the plot is mine**

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><p>Lessons were awkward for the whole day. Sam and Sherlock sat next to each other and barely said two words, apart from when they had to. Sherlock had tried to speak to Sam but hadn't gotten very far. Sam knew he was being mean by ignoring Sherlock but he was worried he would break down and spill everything that had happened with his dad to him. He felt so ashamed at himself and was in so much pain.<p>

Sam thought that Sherlock hadn't noticed the slightly winces of pain as he sat down, or the soft gasps when he pulled the skin on his back. He was wrong.

Sherlock spent the whole day watching his friend with worry in his eyes. He tried to catch Sam's eye or to just speak to him, but Sam was determined to ignore him.

It was only at break when Sherlock caught Sam at his locker.

"I have noticed, you know?" Sherlock spoke behind Sam.

Sam shut his locker and turned around with his eyes focused on the floor. "Noticed what?"

Sam spoke so quietly that it was almost a whisper.

"I know that your dad has hurt you," Sherlock hissed but his voice softened when he saw Sam flinch. "I'm sorry about last night, Sam. I shouldn't have done what I did but I really like you and I want to care for you."

"It wasn't what you did," Sam said and raised his eyes to look at his friend. "I just…freaked, I guess."

Sherlock chuckled and ducked his head. "I'm sorry,"

Sam rested his hand on Sherlock's shoulder.

"Was it my fault?" Sherlock asked softly.

"What?" Sam asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

"That you're dad hurt you," Sherlock said and raised his head.

"No," Sam admitted. "I got home after curfew and dad wasn't happy."

"You need to tell someone," Sherlock told Sam quickly. "You can't keep letting him hurt you."

"No," Sam shook his head vigorously. "If I tell someone, then me and Dean will be taken away from dad and no doubt separated."

"I don't like seeing you getting hurt," Sherlock admitted.

Sam chuckled softly. "I will if I can stay with Dean. And, in a few years, I'll be going off to college."

"Well, do you think we could…I dunno." Sherlock said, biting his lip.

"We could go to the movies on Friday," Sam suggested.

"Sounds good," Sherlock smiled and blushed softly.

"Okay," Sam hesitated slightly before putting a small kiss on Sherlock's cheek.

Sherlock grinned as he watched Sam hurry down the corridor and lightly pressed his fingertips on the spot that Sam's lips had touched moments before.

Friday came around quickly and it was time for Sherlock and Sam to head to the movies. Sam walked outside with Sherlock and they climbed into the back of the Impala. Dean had agreed with a wide smile to take Sam and Sherlock to the movies.

_"Don't stay out to late, lover-boy!" Dean had grinned._

_"Dean," Sam whined and hit Dean's arm. "We're going to the movies. Try using your upstairs brain sometimes."_

_Dean had laughed at that. "I don't know what you're talking about. You brought it up."_

_Sam had groaned and sat on his bed._

_"Okay bean pole," Dean sighed. "I'll take you."  
>Sam grinned and threw his arms around Dean's neck.<em>

_"Thanks Dean. You're the best."_

_"You better believe it," Dean laughed and hugged Sam back. "Now, get to bed before dad whips both our hides."  
><em>"Strap in kids," Dean said as he pulled away. "You guys are paying for the petrol by the way."

Sherlock pulled his wallet out of his pocket. "I only have enough for the movies."

"He's joking, Sherlock." Sam told him.

"You sure about that, Sammy?" Dean asked as he looked at his brother in the rear view mirror.

"You're an asshole," Sam snapped without any venom in his voice.

"You want me to drop your ass on the side of the road and you can walk there?" Dean grinned.

"Jerk," Sam mumbled and slouched in his seat.

"Bitch," Dean shot back smiling.

The rest of the ride was spent in companionable silence.

Dean left the boys at the cinema and they bought their tickets, popcorn and drinks. They chose seats at the back of the movie screen and sat side by side.

Halfway through the film, Sherlock entwined his fingers with Sam and kissed his knuckles lightly. Sam smiled lovingly at his and rested his head on Sherlock's shoulder.

For a moment, all of their problems had gone.

Six months had passed since the first time Sherlock had kissed Sam. It was one of the longest times Sam and Dean had ever spent in any one place and they had grown very fond of it and especially of the people around them. Sherlock and Sam spent as much time with each other as they could whilst keeping their relationship a secret. The only person who knew about them was Dean.

Sam couldn't imagine what would happen to him if his dad ever found out about their secret relationship and they both couldn't imagine how John Watson and his friends would react.

Dean had kept the secret and said nothing to the two boys about their relationship other than warning Sherlock the if he dared hurt his kid brother; there would be hell to pay.

Sherlock had given Dean his word that he would protect and love Sam more than anything in the world.

Sherlock and Sam spent a lot of time together and, when Sam's father was on a hunt, they even stayed at each other's houses.

During one of the weeks that Sam's father was away, Dean went to the bar with his friends allowing Sam and Sherlock full run of the house.

Together, they sat on Sam's bed kissing each other and cupping their faces within each other's hands.

Sherlock's fingers curled into Sam's chestnut locks.

"I love you, Sam." Sherlock declared softly against Sam's lips.

Sam grinned and bit Sherlock's bottom lip. "I love you too."

Suddenly, the door banged open and John Winchester stood in the door with a murderous look on his face.

"Dad," Sam squeaked and shuffled away from Sherlock. "I thought you weren't coming home for a few days."

"Well, I was in the bar in town," Sam's dad explained. "And I see Dean talking to some lads from school. Actually, more like arguing. I was about to step in when I hear this one boy accuse my youngest son of being a faggot." John stepped forward and gestured with his hands. "And here's the final proof."

Sherlock got quickly to his feet. "Please, Mr Winchester. Sam had nothing to do with this. I forced myself on him. It had nothing to do with him."

"Nice try, queer but I heard you both confessing your undying love for each other before I opened the door." John snarled viciously and prodded Sherlock in the chest. "I think you'd better leave and don't ever think you are welcome in my house again."

Sherlock glanced at Sam before straightening his posture and glaring at Sam's father. "No, I'm not leaving Sam alone."

John's top lip curled upwards and he smiled wickedly. "I thought you'd say that."

He gripped Sherlock's arm hard enough to bruise and yanked him out of the bedroom. Sam hurried after them begging his dad to leave him alone. John flung open the front door and pushed Sherlock outside before slamming and locking the door behind him.

"Dad, I'm sorry," Sam apologised with tears streaming down his face.

John's forehead was rested against the front door and he was breathing deeply though his nose in anger. He then turned slowly to face his son.

"I can't believe this," He spoke calmly which unnerved Sam. "My own son, a fucking faggot. This is why Dean was always the better fighter. You're a goddamn queer."

Sam swallowed but held his ground. "Me and Sherlock love each other and anything else is not your concern."

"How long has this been going on?" John spoke and walked slowly towards Sam.

"About six months," Sam mumbled knowing how his dad would react.

"Six fucking months," John roared and swiped everything off the coffee table before flipping it up in rage. "My son has had dick up his ass for six months? No doubt you've had it down your throat as well you filthy little shit!"

Tears fell freely down Sam's face as his father destroyed their house before rounding on him. The first blow to the face knocked Sam to the floor where John kicked his body again and again. It wasn't long before Sam stopped feeling the blows and felt completely numb.

Hands gripped the front of Sam's shirt and hauled him to his feet where he swayed.

"You are to pack a bag and get the hell out of my house," John growled and stormed out of the house.

'Most likely going to a bar to get off his face,' Sam thought before collapsing to his knees.

Sam heard the door open and two sets of panicked voices flooded the room. Sam tried to listen but it sounded underwater. Delicate hands caressed him and held his body against there's. He tried to speak but it only came out as a small moan.

The image above him came into focus and he saw Dean looking down at him and running his hands through Sam's hair.

"You're okay buddy," Dean told him and Sam noticed the tears rolling down Dean's face.

"Y'kay De?" Sam asked and raised a shaking hand to Dean's cheek, wiping the tears away.

Dean sniffled and rubbed his eyes. "I'm fine kiddo. It's you I'm worried about."

Tears rolled freely down Sam's cheeks.

"Dad, he found out." Sam explained. "I didn't mean it. I'm sorry."

"You've got nothing to be sorry for, Sammy." Dean told him. "But, right now, we need to see about getting you to a hospital."

"No," Sam moaned and tried to push away from his brother. "No hospitals. They'll wanna know what happened, Dean."

To prove to Dean that he was fine, Sam pushed himself to his feet before falling back to his knees.

"Sorry," He mumbled to Dean as his older brother held him close. "No hospital. I've had worse and you can take care of me."

"Oh Sam," Dean whispered and ran his fingers through Sam's hair. "Of course I'll take care of you. He won't hurt you again."

Dean guided Sam to the bed where he sat down and went to the bathroom to grab a damp cloth and some bandages. He crouched in front of Sam and wiped the blood from his nose and mouth before lifting Sam's shirt over his head. A gasp escaped Dean's lips when he saw the vivid bruises across Sam's chest and back.

Sam hissed in pain as Dean gently prodded Sam's ribs to check for breaks. He took some bandages and wrapped them around Sam's torso to protect them.

"I think they're just bruised but I've put a bandage on just in case." Dean informed. "I wanna check them first thing in the morning and we might take it off so you don't get pneumonia."

Sam nodded and stared blankly at his knees.

"Hey," Dean said and cupped Sam's cheek in his hand. "This was not your fault. Dad's a homophobic douchebag but he'll calm down; don't worry."

"He told me to pack a bag and leave," Sam spoke almost robotically.

"You're not leaving," Dean said gently. "I'm not letting you and dad can kiss my ass for all I care. You are the most important thing to me and who you love doesn't change that. Frankly, I'm relieved you're into di – I mean – guys. That means I don't have to teach you how to talk to chicks."

Sam laughed softly. "I still like girls, Dean. Just…Sherlock's different."

"I know, Sammy." Dean smiled at his brother. "I think Sherlock is good for you."

Sam grinned. "Thanks Dean."

"No problem, squirt." Dean teased and ruffled Sam's hair.

Sam laughed and batted his brother's hands away.

A short while later, Sam fell asleep with his head resting in the crook of Dean's arm. Dean smiled lovingly at his brother and planted a small kiss on the top of his head.

"Sleep tight, little man."

Suddenly, the door slammed open and a drunken John stumbled across the threshold of their room. His eyes landed on the two boys, snuggled together. A snarl erupted from the back of his throat when he saw his youngest son asleep in Dean's arms.

"What is that little fucker still doing here?" He growled.

Dean glared at his father.

"Maybe because he lives here," he hissed in an attempt to keep his brother asleep.

"No he doesn't!" John bellowed and startled Sam awake. "He is a fag and is no son of mine!"

Dean felt Sam's hand curl into the front of his shirt and held him tighter.

"Dad, if you can't handle the fact that Sam has found someone who loves him, then I suggest you leave or I'll leave with him." Dean stated and watched as his father's face contorted into a look of sheer horror.

"Fine," John snapped. "I'll stay at a motel during until it's time to pack up and move. Then you'll both be coming with me."

John then span on his heel and stormed to his room to pack. The brothers then heard the front door open and slam shut. They were finally able to breathe.

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><p><strong>Be a sweetie and leave a review! <strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: I hope you guys like this chapter. Y'all have been very patient with me! Big thank you to lookaliveerin for helping me with this chapter.**

**Warning: no child abuse or homophobia in this chapter but swearing and manly tears galore! **

**Disclaimer: I only own the plot, not the characters.**

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><p>John had kept his word and had stayed far away from his two sons. Sherlock started coming to the apartment more and more and Dean could see how much he cared for his kid brother. Dean was quite worried about Sam though.<p>

He knew his little brother was having a hard time at school fitting in and dealing with bullies, but when he walked in on Sam and Sherlock speaking in hushed tones, his level of concern sky-rocketed.

Sam had seemed off lately and had looked at Dean almost guiltily. When Dean had questioned Sam about it, he had changed the subject and started to completely shut off from Dean.

Dean was beginning to think about asking Sherlock for some information about what was wrong with Sam, when Sam appeared in the doorway looking solemn.

"C'mon in Sammy," Dean patted the seat on the couch next to him. "You don't have to hang in the doorway."

"I know," Sam spoke quietly and shuffled into the room. He took the seat next to Dean and sat staring at his hands.

"What's up, bud?" Dean questioned. "You've been really quiet lately and I'm worried about you."  
>"I'm leaving," Sam stated and kept his eyes on his hands.<p>

"You're what?" Dean laughed slightly.

"I'm leaving," Sam said again. "I'm running away with Sherlock and I don't plan on coming back."

Dean stared at Sam before laughing almost manically. "You can't be serious, Sam. You're barely fifteen!"

Sam swallowed and nodded. "I know that. But I can't live here anymore."

"Why not?" Dean bellowed making Sam flinch.

"Because…" Sam swallowed and closed his eyes. "Because dad will be back and he hates me and we will have to leave. I'm not leaving Sherlock."

Dean got to his feet and began to pace the room, running his hands through his hair and muttering under his breath.

"Leave then," He told his little brother. "I stop you."

"What?" Sam choked. He had hoped that Dean would beg him to stay.

"I don't want you here anymore than you want to be here!" Dean shouted.

"Dad doesn't love us or care about us, Dean. All he cares about is revenge for a woman who I didn't even know!"

"Don't you dare talk about mom like that!" Dean yelled. "Just because you didn't know her, doesn't mean that you're not her son."

"I don't understand what you want from me." Sam was breathing heavily now, his hands clenching at his sides.

"You know, Dad was right." Dean said. "You care about nobody but yourself. It's your fault mom's dead. She would still be alive if you hadn't of been born and my life would have been so much better without you there. I could have had a normal life but you managed to fuck it all up!"

Sam stared at Dean with tears streaming down his face and collapsed to his knees. "Why are you saying this?"

"Because you need to hear the truth," Dean spoke monotonously. "That is exactly what I think of you, you worthless, little bitch. You may as well just fuck off out of here with your other bitch because I might just kill you if I have to look at your pathetic face again."

Sam curled into a ball and pressed his forehead to the carpet as he let out hiccupping sobs. Dean stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The youngest Winchester had hoped that Dean would tell him that the idea was stupid and would try to convince him not to leave. But now his brother had told him what he really felt about him.

Sam pushed himself to his feet and wiped his cheeks before grabbing a bag he had packed earlier and heading outside.

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><p>When Sam arrived at Sherlock's house, he knocked loudly and collapsed into Sherlock's arms when he opened the door. Sherlock wrapped his arms around the sobbing boy and led him inside to the kitchen. He sat him down at the table and made both him and Sam a hot chocolate with cream and sprinkles. He set them down on the table and sat down, taking Sam's hand in his.<p>

"Tell me what happened," He said softly.

Sam retold the whole story to a very attentive Sherlock who listened quietly the whole way through. He held Sam's in his arms and rubbed his fingers through his hair and along his back.

"Why would Dean say that to you?" He asked. "I thought you were really close."

"The key word being 'were'," Sam laughed humourlessly. "I thought we were as well."

"You can stay here tonight," Sherlock told him. "Then we leave tomorrow."

Sam swallowed and nodded before taking Sherlock's offered hand and following him upstairs to Sherlock's bedroom. They both changed into their pyjamas and climbed into Sherlock's bed. Sam rested his head on Sherlock's chest as Sherlock snaked and arm around his shoulders and held him close. They both soon fell into a dreamless sleep.

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><p>Dean awoke in the morning, his head feeling fuzzy and his limbs feeling too heavy. He tried to recall what had happened to him yesterday but he couldn't remember much after he saw Sam stood in the doorway. He sat up and stood on jelly-like legs, stumbling out of his room in search of his younger brother.<p>

He looked around the entire house and saw no sign that his brother had ever lived in the same house as him. Trying not to panic, Dean grabbed his phone and dialled a number with shaking hands before raising it to his ear.

"Hello?" A gruff voice sounded down the telephone. "Dean, is that you boy?"

"Yeah, it's me Bobby." Dean answered the older hunter.

"Been a while since I've spoken to you so there must be something important," Bobby said.

"It's Sam, Bobby," Dean said shakily.

"Tell me what's happened son," Bobby spoke and listened as Dean told him about Sam's disappearance and why he was calling Bobby and not his dad.

"I'm on my way, boy." Bobby said. "You keep looking for Sam and I would suggest going to this Sherlock's house to see if he's there."

"Okay Bobby," Dean said as he headed out of the door. "I'll see you later."

Dean shoved his phone back into his pocket and slid behind the wheel of the Impala before pulling away and speeding down the road to Sherlock's house. He had barely stopped the car before he leaped out of the door and raced to the house, banging his fists forcefully on the door.

A very grim looking Mrs Holmes opened the door. She glared daggers at Dean, he lips pressed firmly together.

"Where is my son?" She asked. "I imagine he is with Sam."

"Actually, that's what I wanted to ask you." Dean told her as his face paled. "Sam has gone missing and I thought maybe he would be here. I'm guessing him and Sherlock aren't here."

"You guessed right," Mrs Holmes snapped but softened when she saw Dean flinch. "Come in. I was about to call the police but I'm not sure how long he has been missing."

Dean stepped cautiously into the house as Mrs Holmes stepped to the side and opened the door further. She shut the door behind him and led him to the kitchen where she sat Dean down at the table and boiled the kettle, getting two mugs out of the cupboard and putting teabags in them.

"Should we call the police then?" Dean asked and stared blankly at the table.

"There's nothing else we can do," Mrs Holmes said and set a cup of tea in front of Dean as she sat next to him with her own mug.

Dean nodded and sipped his tea. "I'm not normally a tea drinker."

"A cup of tea is the best cure for trauma," Mrs Holmes chuckled. "I'm British of course."

"I noticed," Dean smiled softly. "Why move here?"

"Sherlock and I felt it might be a good idea to try our life over here while his older brother went to university in England." Mrs Holmes told him.

"Is there a Mr Holmes?" Dean asked curiously.

"Back in England with Mike," Mrs Holmes nodded. "Mike is my oldest son."

Dean watched as Mrs Holmes gasped and got to her feet. "What?"

"Mike," Mrs Holmes exclaimed. "He would be far more efficient than the police. He wants to be part of the British government so he is very good at tracking people down. We could get him to do a nationwide scan for Sherlock and Sam."

Mrs Holmes grabbed her phone as Dean stayed where he was, looking slightly stunned. She dialled her son's number and got through after the second ring.

"Mother, what is it? You do realise the time difference don't you." Mike's voice sounded down the phone.

"Now Mike, I need you to do something for me." Mrs Holmes spoke.

"Mother, I insist you call me Mycroft as that is the name that you gave me; the one on my birth certificate." Mycroft moaned.

"I need you scan America for your brother," Mrs Holmes said with a role of her eyes.

"What, pray tell, has brother dear gotten himself into now?" Mycroft sighed.

"Him and his boyfriend, Sam Winchester, have ran away and we need you to look for them." Mrs Holmes informed.

"Give me about 90 minutes and I should have found brother and his plaything," Mycroft huffed at the demand.

"Mycroft, please refer to your brother by his name and Sam is a lovely gentleman," Mrs Holmes scolded.

"90 minutes," Mycroft put the phone down.

Mrs Holmes replaced the phone on the holder and turned to Dean.

"Mycroft said he will have found them within 90 minutes," She relayed the conversation to Dean. "We will find them, Dean."

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><p>"Do you think they will worry?" Sam asked Sherlock.<p>

"After everything, now you're getting cold feet?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "I thought your said Dean didn't want you anyway."

"I know," Sam sighed. "I just…I kind of miss him. He is my brother."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and turned back to stare out of the window of the bus while Sam sank slightly in his seat, fingering his phone in his hands. He was debating as to whether or not he should call Dean and let him know where he was but he thought better of it and shoved his phone into his rucksack. He just wanted to hear Dean's voice to offer him some comfort, but he couldn't face what had happened.

Sam leant back in his seat, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

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><p>The phone on the wall rang and Mrs Holmes picked it up straight away.<p>

"Well," She demanded.

"Hello to you to mother," Mycroft smirked.

"I don't have time to play games, Mikey." Mrs Holmes sighed as she heard her oldest son huff down the phone. "Do you know where they are yet or not?"

"Actually, I do." Mycroft informed. "They are both on a bus; the 489 to Michigan. There is a police station not far from where the bus currently is. I can get in contact with them and they should be in custody within 12 minutes."

"I don't want you little brother in trouble with the police." Mrs Holmes told him.

"He won't be," Mycroft informed. "I will say it is a special request. They haven't done anything against the law anyway."

"Okay," Mrs Holmes breathed. "Just get them home as soon as possible."

"I can guarantee they will both be back with you by the end of the day," Mycroft said before putting down the phone.

"He's found them," Mrs Holmes turned to Dean who had been watching her intently.

"Thank God," Dean breathed and held his head in his hands.

Suddenly, he found that he could not control his movements. His body was moving of its own accord and a voice that appeared to be his left his mouth without his consent.

"I guess they'll get a surprise when they get home," And he lunged at Mrs Holmes.

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><p><strong>Mwahahaha! I'm evil leaving y'all on a cliffhanger! Please leave a quick review! Tune in next time for some badass Bobby, more man tears, many hugs and other stuff :)<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Sorry for the extremely late update. Exams have finally finished and now I'm under the stress of applying to University now. But here I am again. I hope you enjoy this chapter but I might put a tissue warning on here because I cried when I wrote this because I enjoy hurting fictional characters.**

**Warnings: In other chapters**

**Disclaimer: Yeah, I think it's safe to say I don't own these characters (although I started writing the character of Mrs Holmes before we met her in season 3 so she may be OOC)**

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><p>The bus pulled into the next stop and Sherlock swallowed when he saw the police cruisers parked outside like they were waiting for someone. He nudged Sam's shoulder, startling him awake.<p>

"Sam, there's police outside." Sherlock spoke almost fearfully.

"Shit," Sam gasped and glanced out of the window to see the policemen pointing at the bus and walking towards it. "I didn't think Dean would set the cops on our asses."

The army of policemen clambered onto the bus and spotted the two boys trying their best to avoid eye contact. They headed straight towards them, knowing what they looked like through the description that a special source gave to them.

"Sherlock Holmes and Sam Winchester?" One of the men asked and stared at them as they paled. "You're coming with us so we can get you back home. Your families have been so worried about you both."

Sam got to his feet and surrendered himself over to the cops.

"Sam, what are you doing?" Sherlock demanded.

"We can't run anymore, Sherlock." Sam said sincerely as he was walked off the bus and to one of the police cars.

"Come along, son." One of the policemen said to Sherlock who sighed and headed off to the same police car as Sam.

The two sat in silence, gazing out of the windows as they were driven back to Sherlock's house. Sam, noticing the Impala parked out front, got out and followed Sherlock to the door. The policeman rapped his knuckles against the black, painted wood and Sam was surprised when his brother opened the door and threw his arms around him in a bone-crushing embrace.

Sherlock pushed angrily past the two brothers and headed inside. The door was closed soon after as Sam was pulled across the threshold.

"I'm sorry," Sam spoke. "You didn't exactly seem like you wanted me here anymore."

"You will be sorry," Dean snarled and gripped Sam's arm tight enough to make Sam cry out in pain.

Sherlock span around and stared at the scene in front of him.

"Leave him alone!" He screamed and tried to pry Dean's hand off Sam's arm.

Dean flung his arm out and Sherlock felt himself get lifted from the floor by an invisible force. He was forced into the far wall and was kept pinned there. Sam's eyes widened as he glanced over at Sherlock as he struggled against whatever was holding him there.

"Christo," Sam spoke softly and watched as his brother flinched noticeably. Sam gasped. "You're a demon."

Dean's eyes flashed black before he flung Sam against the opposite wall, knocking the wind out of him.

"How long have you been in him?" Sam glared at the demon as Sherlock looked between the two of them, confusion all over his face.

"Dean?" The demon smirked. "A good few hours before you decided to run away."

"Well, I hope you like hell because you've just earned a trip back there." Sam spoke confidently and tried to channel some of his brother in order to seem braver than he was feeling. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immudus spiritus…"

Sam trailed off when the demon stalked towards him and clamped a hand over his mouth.

"You trying to exorcise me you piece of shit?" The demon snarled.

"Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursion infernalis adversarii," Both sets of eyes stared over at Sherlock as he carried on the exorcism. "Omnis congregatio et secta diabolica."

The demon started towards Sherlock when Sam carried on; both sets of voices filling the room with Latin while the demon cried out in front of them.

"Ergo draco maledicte, ut ecclesiam tuam secura, tibi facias lebertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos!"

Dean collapsed to his knees as the demon erupted from his mouth and floated off up the chimney. The force released Sam and Sherlock from the wall and Sam hurried over to his brother.

"Dean," He shook Dean's shoulder. "Wake up."

Dean moaned and opened his eyes to slits and gazed blearily at his baby brother.

"S'mmy?" He slurred and sat up.

"Hey Dean," Sam grinned and wrapped his arms around his big brother before hearing Sherlock cough behind them. Sam turned and saw Sherlock watching him with his arms folded. He helped Dean to his feet and looked back at his boyfriend. "How did you know how to do the exorcism?" He asked.

"Same way you did," Sherlock snapped. "I found your dad's weirdo crap one time I went to your house and thought it was rubbish but once I've read something, it sticks in my mind. As soon as you started chanting, I thought I'd better help."

"I'm sorry," Sam whispered. "I should've told you, I just didn't know how."

"Where's my mum?" Sherlock asked Dean, completely ignoring Sam.

"I think she's in the cupboard in the dining room," Dean replied, rubbing his temples as he tried to remember.

Sherlock stormed to the dining room, hearing Sam following but not turning around. He opened the cupboard slowly and found his mother tied up with a gag in her mouth. Her eyes were wide as she looked at her son and Sherlock reached down to pull the offending piece of cloth from her mouth. She smacked her lips together and swallowed, trying to regain the moisture she had lost.

"Sherlock," She gasped softly. "Sam's brother is a mad man. Have you called the police?"

"It's okay Mrs Holmes." Sam spoke up. "It wasn't Dean who did this to you."

"No, I remember clearly." She said shaking her head.

"Mother, you're delusional." Sherlock groaned and helped his mother out of the cupboard. "I think you've hit your head."

"Perhaps," Mrs Holmes replied, putting her hand to her head. She then pulled Sherlock into a bone-crushing hug. "Don't you ever run away again!"

"I'm sorry," Sherlock answered and pulled away from his mother.

Sam stood behind Sherlock and his mother observing the moment. He felt the guilt settle in his stomach knowing in his heart that it was all his fault. If he had just told Sherlock the truth, even if he thought that he was a madman, they wouldn't be in this current situation.

"Sherlock," Sam placed his hand on Sherlock's shoulder and wasn't surprised when his boyfriend shrugged him off.

"It's over, Sam." Sherlock spoke in a monotonous voice as tears began to prick Sam's eyes. "I want you and your brother to leave, please. I'll see you in school."

"But…"

"Go!" Sherlock span around and shoved Sam. "Please, just go."

Dean pulled on Sam's arm and led him slowly out of the Holmes' house. Sam clung to his brother as though he would disappear if he let go.

It wasn't until the Winchester brothers unlocked the door to the apartment and went inside when Sam collapsed to his knees and broke down in tears of pain and anguish. Dean wrapped his arm around his little brothers shoulders and tried to comfort him through the worst pain he had ever felt in his life.

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><p><strong>TBC<strong>

**Please take a minute to leave a review. They really help and I need stuff to show on my University portfolio :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Sorry got the very slow updates. I got caught up with summer and starting my final year in high school. This is all very scary but this fic should be finished very soon. I'm thinking another chapter and an epilogue. Please enjoy this chapter and leave a review for me!**

**Disclaimer: I sadly don't own any of these characters although I wish I did**

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><p>Sam arrived at school late having not seen Sherlock since the incident. Sam saw Sherlock through his lessons, and whenever he tried to talk to him, he completely ignored him.<p>

His heart sank at lunchtime when he entered the dining hall and saw Sherlock sat on the same table as John Watson. Their hands were clasped together and they smiled lovingly at each other. Sam stopped and stared at them across the room. His heart hammered in his chest and he tried to hold back the tears that he could already feel stinging the back of his eyes.

Sherlock glanced over and his eyes caught Sam's. He saw the pain and betrayal in his eyes but he knew that he could no longer trust him. John had been and always would be Sherlock's first love and he expected that it counted for something. No matter what went on between them, Sherlock knew that he would never stop loving John. His relationship with Sam, if he could even call it that, was only something that helped to mask the pain of losing John as his lover. Sherlock knew that Sam definitely was his friend but he didn't feel like they could be anything more. He felt guilty for stringing Sam along with him but at least he had his first true love back.

Sam jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked up to see his brother with a wide grin on his face.

"Heya Sammy!" Dean smiled as his eyes looked around the hall. The smile soon fell when his eyes landed on Sherlock with his hand in John freaking Watson's.

"Can we go somewhere else, please?" Dean looked back at Sam when he heard his pain-filled voice ask the question.

Dean crouched to Sam's level and pulled him into a tight hug, his hands running through his floppy bangs. "It's okay, little brother. You're gonna be okay."

It wasn't easy, that was for sure. Seeing Sherlock everywhere around school with his hand in John's wasn't easy. John seemed to be enjoying it a lot. Every time he saw Sam's distraught face, he would wrap his arm around Sherlock's shoulder or he would pull him close and kiss him.

Sam couldn't cope with this anymore. His heart pounded each time he laid eyes on his first love and his eyes filled with tears when John did something. Sherlock didn't seem to realise that John was just doing this to make Sam jealous.

It was a Friday lunchtime when it started. Sam innocently walked through the cafeteria in search of his brother or at least an empty seat. He felt someone slam into him and his bowl of soup spilt over said person's t-shirt.

"I'm sorry...I..." Sam broke off when John Watson rose from the floor, glaring at Sam with fury and malice in his eyes.

"You little bitch." He snarled. "You're so fucking blind you can't see where you're walking or when a person doesn't love you!"

The words panged sadness in Sam's heart and he hurried out of the cafeteria, John calling after his fleeing form.

"I'll get you for this!"

Sam sat outside on the bleachers, holding his head in his hands. He heard footsteps near him and looked up.

"What's up, kiddo?" Dean asked gently and sat down next to him.

"Nothing," Sam mumbled. "Why are you here?"

"I can't just come and hang with my adorable little brother?" Dean spoke in an innocent manner. Sam raised an eyebrow. "Okay...I have a reason. I'm going back to Rhonda Hurley's house tonight so I won't be able to drive you home."

"Oh...okay then." Sam spoke uneasily. Dean seemed to notice Sam's uncertainty and moved to crouch in front of him.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing...I just like our drives." Sam smiled shyly.

"I promise, it's only for tonight and the walk back home will be twenty minutes tops. Just, make sure you call me when you get home."

"Okay, Dean. I promise."

The final bell rang and Sam hurried to pack his bag and get out of that hell hole. School was quickly becoming his least favourite thing and he had decided that he would much rather be hunting than going into school and facing Sherlock and John every day.

He pulled on his thin, denim jacket and threw his backpack over his shoulder. He headed out of the school and started on his walk home. Sam pulled his jacket around him to shield himself from the cold. It felt like something was wrong. He quickened his pace, wanting to get home fast. He pulled his phone out of the pocket and dialled Dean's number, his finger hovering over the call button 'just in case', he told himself.

"Sam Winchester!" He heard a familiar voice sing after him. His heart felt like it was in the back of his throat and he turned slowly to see John with a group of his friends; Sherlock was nowhere in sight and Sam prayed that he wasn't part of this.

"I told you I'd get you for what you did at lunch." John snarled.

"I...I told you I was s-sorry." Sam silently cursed himself for the way his voice shook. He didn't know why he was so scared when he had taken on things much bigger and more frightening than this group of bullies.

"You still did it!" John shouted and he and his friends began to move forward.

Sam turned and ran, hearing pounding footsteps running after him. He pressed the call button on his phone and held it to his ear as it rang and he willed Dean to pick up.

"_Sammy, you home already_?" The tinny voice reached Sam's ear. "_Not bad, speedy. I thought you'd..."_

"Dean, shut up a minute!" Sam panted as he ran. "I need help! I'm being chased...I'm unarmed...I can't...please Dean!"

_"Sam, I'm on my way. Just stay calm and tell me where you are." _Sam could hear the fear in Dean's voice.

"I'm...I'm two blocks from the apartment. They're fast though!"

_"They? Sam, who is 'they'?" _Sam heard Dean get into the Impala and start the engine. This sparked hope in his heart that Dean would get here in time and save him.

Just as Sam was about to answer, someone slammed into his back and tackled him to the ground. The phone slipped from his grasp and bounced away from his across the tarmac. He grunted as he hit the floor and rolled over onto his back. One of the gang straddled his hips and pinned his arms to the ground. The rest of the gang stood over him, sneering down at his helpless form.

"Please..." Sam pleaded. "I've never done anything to you!"

"You've been a pain in my ass for far too long, Winchester." John replied with a twisted grin. "It's time that we put you in your place."

Sam felt hands grab his hair and tug his back along the rough surface of the pavement. He scratched at the hands and shouted until his voice was hoarse and sore. Nobody came to rescue him. He whimpered in pain as he was dropped unceremoniously in the alley way, out of the way of passers-by. His heart hammered against his ribcage and he held his arms up to protect himself from the hits and kicks that rained down upon him. It wasn't too long before darkness welcomed him.

Dean's heart thundered and he felt his blood rush to his ears when he heard Sam cry out and the malicious voices of his attackers in the background. He pressed his foot harder on the accelerator, uncaring about the fact that he was going far over the speed limit. He prayed that he would get there in time and cursed himself for going off with Rhonda Hurley. All she had wanted was to see how he looked in a pair of pink panties. He would never admit how much he had liked it, but right now, his reason from breathing was in trouble and he needed to rescue him.

The Impala skidded to a halt exactly where Sam had said; two blocks away from the apartment. He jumped out of the car and ran down the street. His eyes scanned up and down, searching for his brother. He yelled his name repeatedly but was met with no reply. He gasped when he spotted Sam's phone and picked it up, looking around. He looked up the alleyways and sighed with both relief and fear when he saw his brother curled up against the wall. He hurried to his side and pulled his limp, bloody body into his arms.

"Sammy?" He tapped Sam's face and almost cried when Sam moaned softly. He scooped his ever-growing brother into his arms and carried him carefully to the car, laying him in the back seat. "You're gonna be okay, little brother."

Dean knew that he couldn't take Sam to the hospital as much as he wanted to. He was still underage and the CPS would get involved and could potentially take Sam away. He drove as fast as he could back to the apartment and carried Sam inside. He laid his brother down on the bed and set to work stripping off his clothes and cleaning the blood from his skin. His stomach twisted when he saw the collection of blacks and blues that mottles Sam's chest. He opened Sam's eyelid and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that Sam didn't have a concussion. He lightly kissed Sam's forehead and slid into bed next to him.

"I promise, this won't ever happen again, Sammy."

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading and please leave a review!<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: So, I'm sad to say that this is the last chapter of this story. It's been amazing writing this and has challenged me to go beyond my comfort zone and write even more. The epilogue will be up soon though so I hope you will enjoy it! Don't forget to review!**

**This chapter is dedicated to my friend, Misha. It's my birthday present to her as I can't send her anything because we live in different countries. So, happy birthday darling!**

**A big thank you to my amazing friend, Erin (or if you want to read her fanfics, lookaliveerin). I have her to thank for persistantly coming up with ideas when I have had severe writer's block. Without her, this fic wouldn't have gotten this far.**

**Disclaimer: You know the drill by now. I don't own the moose, otter, squirrel or hedgehog although I wish to God I did.**

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><p>Dean took Sam into school the next day and was sure to watch his every move as he headed to his different lessons. He left each of his lessons early to find Sam and escort him to his next lesson before returning to his own. It was soon lunchtime and Sam nervously slipped his hand into Dean's as they walked steadily to the cafeteria. Sam froze when he laid eyes on John and the rest of his attackers. Dean followed Sam's gaze and his eyes widened as a low growl formed in the back of his throat.<p>

"Was it them who did this?" He asked his little brother and gestured at his bruised face.

"Please, Dean," Sam spoke quietly. "Let's just go and get lunch."

Sam felt tears spring in his eyes when he saw Sherlock laughing along with John before sharing a quick kiss. Sherlock looked up and locked eyes with Sam, his mouth dropping open into a small 'o' shape. He stood up and Sam turned away, walking off towards the queue. Sherlock soon caught up with him and put a hand on his shoulder. Sam shrugged it off and lowered his head to hide behind his floppy bangs.

"Sam," Sherlock asked concern evident in his voice. "What happened?"

"Nothing," Sam mumbled and rolled his eyes when Sherlock tilted his chin up to look at him. "Get off!"

"No," Sherlock snapped. "You're obviously hurt and I wanna know why."

"Why do you care?" Sam felt tears fall over his cheeks. "You were probably in on this anyway!"

"Sam, maybe we should go somewhere else." Dean spoke cautiously, putting his hand on his brother's shoulder, but Sam ignored him.

"Why would I be in on this?" Sherlock frowned just as John began to walk over.

"Baby, don't let this jerk get you all upset. Let's just go back and eat." John said and slipped his arm around Sherlock's waist.

"I bet you get off on this, don't you?" Sam turned to John. "You just ruin people's relationships. You're using Sherlock!"

"You little punk!" John snarled and balled up his fists. "You know _nothing _about my relationship with Sherlock!"

Sam breathed harshly and glared at John through his bangs, his nails digging into the palms of his hands. "Fuck you."

"What did you just say to me?" John stepped forward and brought himself to his full height.

Sam swallowed and clenched his jaw as he tried to make himself appear taller. "I said...fuck you." He spoke strongly without his voice wavering.

"That's it," John grabbed the collar of Sam's shirt and punched him before he had time to deflect the blow. Sam fell to the ground and had no time to recover before he was lifted and punched again. He could taste blood on his tongue and tried to fight back. All around him, he could hear a commotion.

Sherlock shouted and tried to pull John away but was also knocked to the floor. Dean quickly ran to Sherlock's aid before he grabbed John and threw him off his brother.

Sam spat blood onto the floor as he got shakily to his feet, ignoring Dean's offered hand to help him. Sherlock stared at Sam and moved forward, lightly touching Sam's bloody lip.

"I'm sorry, Sam." He spoke in a soft, regretful way.

"Maybe you two should talk things out." Dean suggested as he laid a gentle hand on Sam's shoulder.

Sam nodded slowly and headed out of the cafeteria, away from the prying eyes of his peers and the kitchen staff. Sherlock was just about to follow him when Dean grabbed his arm.

"You try anything with him and I will end you." He growled lowly so that no one else could hear him.

Sherlock nodded in understanding and followed Sam out of the room. He soon caught up with him and they walked in silence down to the bleachers which they chose to sit under; Sam sitting opposite Sherlock with his legs crossed.

"I'm sorry," Sherlock sighed. "I didn't want this to happen."  
>"I heard you the first time," Sam mumbled and picked at the blades of grass on the floor.<p>

"I did love you, Sam," Sherlock's hand came to rest on Sam's knee. "I still do."

"You've got a funny way of showing it." Sam snapped.

"I – I can't make excuses for what I've done," Sherlock looked at the floor. "I hurt you emotionally and that stupid asshole of a boyfriend hurt you physically. I trusted you and I loved you...I cared about you. I was stupid and dumb...I was frightened. I couldn't get into my head the fact that you spend your time hunting the supernatural. That's not something I can comprehend because my world is based on fact and that attack with the demon really shook me up and I was scared that, if I let myself get too attached to you, you could get hurt...or worse. I couldn't live with that so I became a coward. I got back with John because I wanted to make you see that I had moved on. But I never moved on…I never loved John like I loved you."

Sherlock stopped speaking and looked up to focus on Sam's expression. Sam's eyes were looking up at Sherlock with a morbid curiosity. The corners of his mouth twitched into a small smile.

"I guess I forgive you," Sam shrugged. "I'm sorry that I never told you what I did."

"I understand why you didn't," Sherlock took Sam's hand in his. "Do you think there's a chance that we could ever get past this?"

"Can I think about it and let you know tomorrow?" Sam asked.

"Of course," Sherlock answered and pulled Sam into a hug.

They would manage to get past this eventually.

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><p>Sam woke the next morning and moaned as his bruises ached. His heart was set on telling Sherlock that he had made up his mind – he wanted to try again.<p>

"Sammy, you up?" Dean's voice came through the door.

"Yeah, Dean." Sam said as he sat up in bed and the door opened.

"Pack your stuff…we're leaving."

Sam's stomach flipped and he felt sick.

"What? Why are we leaving?"

"Dad called and he's enrolled us at some new school in Minnesota. So hurry up so we can leave." Dean grabbed Sam's duffle and dropped it on his bed.

"Dean, what the hell?" Sam snapped. "We're not leaving!"

"Yeah, we are Sam," Dean sighed. "The deal was that we stayed here until dad got a new hunt that was too far away so now we have to go."

"NO!" Sam shouted. "I chose to forgive Sherlock and we were going to try again! I can't leave now!"

"Sam, we had a deal." Dean spoke calmly.

"You don't understand!" Sam yelled and got to his feet. "You get with a different girl at each school we go to! You don't understand what love is!"

Dean's eyes widened at Sam's outbursts. "This is just some pathetic teenage thing you're involved in! It's just a stage! There's billions of other people on this planet, not just Sherlock!"

Sam felt like he had been slapped and took a calming breath. "Get out."

"Sam…"

"Get out!" Sam pushed Dean out of the door and slammed it behind him.

Sam stood with his back against the door, salty tears rolling down his cheeks. His shoulders shook as he sobbed and he went back to get his duffle bag and started to shove the few clothes he had into it. His hands shook as he zipped it up and he sat heavily on his bed. He looked up when he heard the door open and Dean walked in.

"Hey, I'm sorry." Dean apologised and sat next to Sam. "I didn't mean what I said."

"I don't care." Sam shrugged Dean's apology off and pulled his bag over his shoulder before walking out of the room, followed by Dean.

Their father was waiting outside for them and Sam climbed into the back of the car while Dean rode shotgun. Sam stared out of the window as the car pulled away and drove out of the small town. His heart hammered at the realisation that he would never see Sherlock again.

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><p>Sherlock sat in his first class, waiting for Sam to walk in the room with his decision. His hands sweated and he bounced his leg. He was both nervous and excited to hear what Sam had to say and he prayed that Sam would choose to forgive him. The bell went and Sherlock began to grow even more nervous. The teacher entered the room and still, there was no sign of Sam. The lesson started and Sherlock began to grow restless as he looked around the classroom.<p>

"Mr Holmes, are you missing something?" Mr Hall questioned.

"No, sir, I…I was just wondering where Sam is. He said he had something for me." Sherlock answered.

"Ah, Mr Winchester." Mr Hall spoke thoughtfully. "Sadly, he won't be returning to school. His father called up this morning and told us that he's got a new job elsewhere and they've had to move on."

Sherlock's heart thundered in his chest. Sam had left…left this school…left this state…left him. The sudden realisation that he would never see his best friend again hit him and he felt nauseous. He got to his feet and ran out of the classroom and out of the door of the school. He looked down the road just in time to see a black, muscle car drive off around the corner and he sank to his knees.

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><p>Sam stared at his former school as his father drove past. He kneeled and looked out of the back window as it grew farther and farther away from him. He could have sworn that his saw a boy run out of the building with dark, curly hair. That boy with the most amazing eyes that Sam had ever seen.<p>

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><p><strong>Obviously, I'm not gonna just leave it there! I'm not that cruel! The epilogue will be here soon so leave a review and I'll get it up faster. Thanks to all you guys for sticking with me throughout!<strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: This is finally the complete end of 'To Love Another'. This has been amazing and I'm hoping that this is a good way to end it for everyone. Please leave me a review at the end and I'll soon have another story up and running for you. Also, leave me any requests that you have to give me something to write. I would really appreciate it!**

**Disclaimer: I sadly don't own these characters *cries 5ever***

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><p><strong>Epilogue<strong>

_Fifteen Years Later_

Within the confines of 221B Baker Street, London, England, Sherlock Holmes was working a case, a confusing and rather impossible case. A client had come to him claiming that she had been dating a ghost. It was quite improbable to Sherlock's realistic mind. However, he had a saying: "Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be true". What he had witnessed as a young teenager, however, had proven that the supernatural was no mere trick of the imagination. It was the truth.

He chose to set up his own investigation. It sounded silly at first but he decided to use the Internet to search for ghost hunters. He found the number for a Bobby Singer who lived in South Dakota. Sherlock shrugged and decided to dial the number anyway. He knew he couldn't deal with a ghost on his own.

Bobby gave him another number for, who he called, "the greatest monster hunters on the planet". So, Sherlock dialled the number and got through to someone called Dean (he wouldn't give away his surname until he had actually met this weird, British man).

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><p>"We've got a case," Dean informed his brother. "You'll never guess where."<p>

"Enlighten me," Sam said, uncaring.

"London," Dean grinned. "Dude, we're going to England! We'll be able to see hot British chicks. That's, like, a dream of mine."

Sam chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, we're going to have to get a plane over there."

"I know," Dean made a displeased face. "But the guy said our tickets are all booked and paid for so let's hit the road cause we've got a plane to catch."

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><p>The Winchester brothers both arrived in London just under twelve hours later. They took a taxi to Baker Street and both stared out of the windows, mesmerised by the city around them. Both of them got out and paid the driver in British Pounds, which Dean was amazed by.<p>

"This is amazing, man!" He exclaimed to Sam as he held a twenty-pound note up to the light so that he could see the Queen through it.

Sam laughed and shook his head as he walked off to find the right house. He soon found the right house next to 'Speedy's Café' and he knocked on the door as he waited for Dean to catch up with him.

A short, old lady with a kind, smiling face opened the door to the boys and they explained that they had been invited here. She let them in and led them up the stairs to the right flat. Dean moved to stand in front of Sam almost protectively as he knocked on the door. It wasn't long before a short man with greying hair opened the door.

"Can I help you?" He asked.

"I hope so," Dean put on his best grin. "We were called here to take care of a ghost problem you might have."

"Ghost problem?" The man frowned in confusion and turned back into the flat when a voice called out.

"I called them, John!" Shouted a deep voice from inside the flat. "Invite them in."

The man, John, opened the door wider and allowed Sam and Dean to enter. Sam couldn't help but think that the short man was familiar but he couldn't think how. John led them into the kitchen where a man with dark, curly hair sat at the cluttered table, staring into a microscope. Sam frowned and tilted his head in an attempt to recognise who he was. It only hit him when the man looked up at him and Dean. Those eyes…the ones from fifteen years ago. Sam looked back and John and realised. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.

Sherlock's eyes widened when he looked up at Sam. How could he forget the boy he fell in love with all those years ago? Dean, sensing the awkwardness, spoke up and held him hand out to Sherlock.

"I'm assuming you're the one who called," He grinned as he tried to brighten the mood. "I'm Dean Winchester and this is my little brother, Sammy."

Sherlock shook Dean's hand firmly before taking Sam's hand. Sam hid behind his bangs as he shook Sherlock's hand and Sherlock stared at him.

"I'm Sherlock Holmes," He answered and watched as Dean's eyes widened. Sherlock let go of Sam's hand and slipped his arm around John's waist. "And this is my husband, John Watson."

Sam swallowed and gripped Dean's arm tightly. Dean rested his hand over Sam's, sensing his distress.

"My brother's just got a bit of jetlag so we'll be in touch tomorrow," Dean said and guided Sam towards the door.

"Sam?" Sherlock hurried after them both and rested a hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam raised his head to look at him. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah," Sam looked downcast. "Me too."

Sherlock lowered his hand and the Winchester brothers walked back out of the building before getting a taxi to their hotel. Dean held Sam while he sat on the bed with his head in his hands. It felt like the wound that had been patched up many years ago had been reopened. Dean worried that he mightn't be able to patch his brother up again after this. But, Sam could conquer anything if he tried. He just had to be brave.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! Please leave a review and any requests for any other fanfics you'd like me to have a go at writing. <strong>


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